


Deja Vu

by daynight



Category: Band of Brothers, The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 18:09:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3619359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daynight/pseuds/daynight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louisiana boys and a weakness for redheads.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deja Vu

**Author's Note:**

> NOT based on real people, based on TV show, no offence meant in any shape or form.

“For fuck’s sake Merriell, don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Snafu tossed another shot down his long throat and grinned brightly, luminescent in the fluorescent red and purple lights of the bar.

“Nope.” Words slipped lazily from another crocodile grin, like he’d just cracked a hilarious joke. Eugene sighed and took another measured sip of his beer, running a hand through his dark hair.

“I don’t wanna have to carry you home again.” Snafu breathed out a wheezy laugh at the memory.

 “That was fuckin’ ages ago, Eugene.” 

“Yeah well, it’s not a night I’m likely to forget any time soon.” He nudged Snafu in his protruding ribs fondly. “You’re heavier than you look.” Snafu snorted, raising Eugene’s ire. “And don’t think I’ll be playing personal medic neither, you better not get punchy and try to rumble someone twice your size.”

“Buuuut Eugeneee!” Snafu whined, getting up in Eugene’s personal space, slinging an arm around him and pulling him close. “Who else is gonna kiss it better?” Gene pulled a repulsed face but laughed all the same.

“Get offa me, Merriell. I’ll leave that job to your Mama.” Eugene was used to this. He stopped being spooked by Snafu’s complete lack of boundaries approximately 18 years ago.

“How about your Mama, huh? I know she keen on me.” Snafu sneered suggestively. Eugene tried not to laugh again at his immature retort and pushed him lightly away.

Every time he met up with Merriell when he was home, they ended up acting like they did when they were teenagers, Roe forgetting his dignified silence and Snafu forgetting his occasional cruelty, falling into old and comfortable patterns. They were back to being two swamp-roaming kids who got into mischief and came home with bloody noses and bruised calves but triumphant smiles, Snafu’s tan arms knocking up against Eugene’s pale ones as they swaggered along together.

“ _Va te faire foutre_ , Merriell. My mama is a happily married Christian woman, thank you, and I don’t think your skinny ass is gonna tempt her away.” Snafu fell back, coiled like a rattlesnake, his huge lazy eyes watching Eugene with amusement. A buzz in his pocket alerted Eugene to his phone as Snafu, already glazed and even more threateningly laconic than usual, ordered yet another shot of whiskey.

“Ah.” Roe was smiling slightly at his phone, his eyes flashing. Unusual. “Heffron’s coming down.”

“Your friend Heffron?” Snafu clinked elbows with Eugene, jostling him as he texted which earned him a reproving glare. 

 “Yeah, he’s in town.” Snafu glanced at Eugene sideways, tracking his facial movements. Eugene was giving nothing away. “Thought it would be nice if he came down here, y’know, saw some of the authentic New Orleans.”

“Who could get more authentic than me?” Snafu boasted, leaning back in his seat and spreading his arms.

 “Yeah, you’re a real backwoods bayou son of a bitch.” Eugene purposefully thickened his already thick accent mockingly.

“Don’t deny your roots Eugene. You’re a true Cajun, same as me.”

 “Yet I manage to be less of a fucking animal. Git your boots off that stool, boy.”

Snafu reluctantly removed his dirty work boots from the bar stool opposite them. For some reason he found himself listening to Roe, he always had. Even when they were kids Roe was the only one who could get his troublesome ass in line when Snafu was raising his typical hell.

“Don’t try to fight with Heffron neither, by the way.” Muttered Eugene, straightening his shirt. “That’s another idiot who don’t know when a brawl is worth havin’”

“Eugene!” A strong Philly accent cried out from across the bar, abrupt and so loud it rose above the general cacophony. Eugene’s face flickered with a look Snafu didn’t rightly recognise and he turned to face the noisy disturbance. Snafu followed his eyes.

He was struck dumb. Red hair, maybe darker and more auburn than light orange, but red all the same. Tall, lean, with a strong nose and pale skin. Dark eyes. Huge, friendly smile. _Fuck_. It was like he was sent directly for him.

It was Eugene he was joyfully stomping towards however, wearing an enormous grin that contrasted with Eugene’s tight, subtle smile, the one that Snafu knew meant he was actually pretty happy. He clapped Gene on the back boisterously. 

He definitely was not going to try and fight this guy.  Maybe another physical activity was in order. Also beginning with F. He smirked to himself, alight with this new challenge that would be a welcome respite or maybe even a cure to the fucking hopeless one that he had been fighting privately for weeks on end. He hated being hung up, it didn't suit him at all.

“Great to see you buddy!” The newcomer looked around the bar and whistled low and steady. “This your local?”

“Yeah.” Eugene lifted his eyebrows and motioned towards Snafu, who was watching the guy with disconcertingly predatory eyes. “This is Merriell, my…” He struggled for a moment. _How to describe what Merriell was to him?_ “Old friend.” Snafu rose slightly from his slump to shake hands, an appealing smile lighting up his face. Eugene’s grandma, who knew about these things, had always said that Merriell had charm bestowed on him by the devil himself.

“Call me Snafu. Everyone apart from Gene here does.” The guy chuckled amiably.

“Like ‘situation normal, all fucked up’? I like it!” Snafu’s eyes glinted, making Eugene a little uncomfortable. “That’s funny, Gene never calls me by my nickname either.”

 “What is your nickname?” Snafu had his head propped on his palms, leaning to the side, looking positively angelic. Eugene didn’t like it at all.  

“Well, my name’s Edward, but everyone calls me Babe.” Babe was clambering onto a stool between them now, Snafu scooting in closer as he settled. He didn’t appear rattled by the proximity but, as Eugene had noted a long time ago, it took a lot of shit to rattle Babe. It was one of the things he admired about him.

“Babe. I like that too.” His voice was like molasses, lazy and languid. Eugene eyed him suspiciously, squinting. _What the hell was he thinking?_

 

* * *

  

As they continued to talk, Eugene was growing more silently irate, despite remaining completely placid. Snafu was laying it on thick, even reaching out to touch Babe’s arm a couple times with his spindly tan fingers. Eugene had watched this play about a million times and he knew it almost always worked. Snafu came on strong, intense, perhaps almost predatorily so, but due to his nice looks he somehow managed to hook them time and time again.  Luckily, Babe was not completely lost, constantly turning back to Eugene with bright eyes, oblivious and excitable as always.  Between these breaks in his seduction mission, Snafu was consuming more alcohol and becoming drunker by the minute.

He was leaning on Babe’s shoulder now, almost whispering in his ear. Babe’s cheek was tinged slightly pink and Eugene was reaching the end of his tether. _For months, years even he had…_ it didn’t matter. It was just…Snafu knew just the right ways to get him angry.

“You know, you remind me of someone.” Snafu was slurring, probably more candid than he was intending.

“Is he cute?” Babe awkwardly joked, eyes darting between Snafu and Gene, who seemed pretty damn pissed off for some indiscernible reason.

 “Fucking adorable.” Replied Snafu, momentarily wistful. He laid his warm hand across Babe’s arm. “Hey, you got a place to stay tonight? Cuz I have a nice cool house and a pretty big bed.” He let his legs fall open just slightly more than they already were.

Eugene audibly coughed.

“Heffron.” He piped up coldly to a beet-red Babe, who stared helplessly at him like a frightened rabbit in the snare of a python. “Have you called Bill to let him know you got here okay?”

“No. No I haven’t. I should do that. Yep. Sorry guys, back in a second” Rising with the grace of a vaudeville clown, Babe stumbled off the stool, phone clutched in a white knuckled hand. As soon as he was out of earshot, Roe grabbed a swaying Snafu by the collar violently.

 “What the hell, Merriell!” He hissed.

“Wha?” Snafu was entirely unthreatened, grinning with intoxicated glee. “He’s my type!”

“Too fucking bad.” Roe breathed, chest heaving with anger. “He’s my type too.” Snafu began to smirk in the face of Roe’s pale fury. 

“Oh. Ohhhhhh.” Eugene slowly released Snafu. “That’s okay, Eugene. I see now.” His eyes were hazy but sincere. “I won’t do anything.” He bit his lip, calming down rapidly into a strange, almost reflective state. “I’m gonna go take a walk.” He resolved, standing unsteadily.

“Alright. Come back in a bit okay? I ‘aint mad just…” Eugene managed a half smile. “I like him, y’know?”

Snafu’s returning smile was more morose than any Eugene had ever witnessed from him.

“I know.” He shoved a cigarette into the corner of his mouth, nodded at Eugene solemnly, then shuffled out of the back door, just as Babe returned from the front.

Babe gave Eugene a blinding grin, one of the ones he secretly liked so much.

“Bill said to say hi!”

“Tell him I say hi back.” Babe sat down again and leaned up against Roe in a natural way, smiling blithely as if he was entirely unaware of the effect he had on people.

“Where’d your friend go?”

“Takin’ a walk to clear his head.” Babe looked amused and shook his head slightly. 

“What a guy!” He directed his beam at Eugene and cocked an eyebrow at him, saying semi jokingly and semi seriously “Do you think I should take him up on his offer?”

 Eugene blanched.

“Meriell? N-o. No. He is…no good. He’s a _coquin_. He’ll just chew you up and spit you out.” He paused in his rant. “He’s…not right for you.”

Babe spluttered with laughter.

“Okay, I guess? Damn, didn’t know you had it in for the guy, I thought you were friends?”

“We are. It’s just…I know him too well. He’s not easily tamed.” Babe raised his eyebrows again at this somewhat cliche turn of phrase.

“Sounds exciting.” Babe joked, chuckling in that wheezy way that shouldn’t be incredibly endearing. He tipped his head to one side and slid his gaze over to Roe, who was staring with exaggerated focus at his beer. That did it. Eugene turned suddenly, mouth set in a firm line, and grabbed Babe’s bicep in a vice like grip. Babe stared at his hand like it had materialised out of thin air.

“You could go home with me, instead.” Babe blinked a few times then let the shock on his face dissolve into a wide smile. 

“Shit, Gene. You were always my first choice.”

 

* * *

 

Snafu kicked a rock out in the deserted parking lot and watched it skip a couple feet in front of him, inhaling smoke sharply. He wasn’t pissed, he never could stay angry with Eugene for long (something about his crumpled, quizzical eyebrows) but damn, if only he hadn’t already staked a claim. Snafu could be back in his ramshackle apartment right now, tearing the clothes off a cute philly-born redhead with his teeth. He had genuinely liked that guy too; he could see why Eugene was acting like a jealous fourteen-year-old girl about him with those good-natured smiles and that rowdy but sweet disposition. It seemed nice gingers were Snafu’s kryptonite. He talked a bit too much but nevertheless, Snafu would have shown him a damn good time. Babe could have been the guy, the one dude to rid him of this terrible fucking un-scratchable itch in his heart.

Snafu kicked another rock, this time with more force. Who was he kidding? There were certain reasons why Snafu had been attracted to him in the first place and they were as clear as day. It was just pathetic to keep fooling himself.

“Shit.” Mumbled Snafu, spitting out his smouldering cigarette and fumbling in his back pocket for his phone.

Alcohol had greatly lowered his inhibitions, but instead of getting up to his usual under the influence shenanigans, Snafu found himself doing something much worse in concerns to his very guarded emotions. He scrolled his thumb down his contacts to the letter S clumsily, laughing at his own drunken foolishness, already regretting his decision and rang the number. It was the same one that _he_ had gingerly written on his hand once, blushing as he pressed his biro into Snafu’s skin.

As it was beyond midnight, Sledge, of fucking course, did not pick up. He was probably tucked up in bed, like a good little boy, not out raising trouble with the bad ones. Snafu snorted and waited with heightening anticipation for his chance to cause mischief.

‘ _Hello._ ’ A deep Alabama accent, somehow stronger than Snafu remembered. It still struck him deeply, reminded him of late nights sharing cigarettes and of freckled shoulders seen in glimpses. ‘ _You’ve reached Eugene Sledge. I can’t answer right now but please leave me a message and I’ll try to return your call._ ’ A measured pause. ‘ _Thank you._ ’ 

Snafu snorted another laugh. Sledge was always so fucking polite.  The beep sounded loudly and Snafu waited for a few seconds, intending to creep Sledge out, and then began to record his message.

“Heeeeeeeyyyyy Sledgehammer. It’s me, Snafu. You know, the fucked up Cajun roommate you had in college? I made ya drink jack and smoke with me? Well I’ve been thinkin’ about you. I know, I know, I didn’t answer none of your texts, but I gotta tell you.” Snafu huffed out a drunken giggle. “I used to think about fuckin’ you in our dorm all the time, man.” Snafu realised this teetered on harassment, but his drunken self didn’t really give a rat’s ass. The thought of Sledge’s face heating up, the way it used to whenever Snafu recounted any of his vast roster of sexually explicit tales was only compelling him onwards. “You used to really piss me off. Not ‘cuz you were such a do-gooder, man, I liked that, but because I wanted to fuck you so bad it kinda hurt.” Snafu leant up against a wall. This dirty message was getting a little confessional. He was only intending to freak Sledge out a bit, not pour his fucking heart out.

It was useless though; once he started he couldn’t stop. “I mean, the worse thing is I didn’t just want you to suck my dick, although you do have really nice lips for it.” They were nice, Snafu recounted, very pink. “I wanted to like, hold your hand and shit. And if we did fuck, I’d make sure it was good for you. Hell, I’d probably even suck your dick if you asked. I might even have wanted to.” He sighed. “It messed me up man; I knew I wasn’t good enough for you. That’s why I never texted back.” Snafu inhaled deeply, and then continued his ramble. “Look, I’m drunk as fuck. If you ever wanna come down, ask for me at the bar. I’ll probably fucking be there. Bye, Sledgehammer.” He pulled the phone away from his face as he attempted to end the call, mumbling something he sincerely hoped wasn’t ‘I love you’ into the speaker. He finally managed to hang up and stuffed his phone, the agent of this regretful deed, back in his pocket.  The more steps he took back in the direction of the bar, the less he remembered of the call he had just made. Maybe a couple of shots more and he could just forget about the whole damn thing.  

 

* * *

 

It turns out they couldn’t wait until they got home after all. It had only taken Babe, licking his lips clean of a foam moustache from his drink for Gene to lose what was left of his self control and begin herding him towards the men’s bathroom, his shirt balled in his fist. Babe didn’t seem like he took offence to any of the proceedings, eyes wide and dark with something that made Gene’s chest ache. He was the one that took the initiative after Gene pushed them both into the bathroom, fumbling with the lock with uncooperative hands, practically jumping on Gene and pressing their lips together with a surprising tenderness.

He had hoped the first kiss, pressed up against the cubicle door, would satisfy him, somehow quell a bit of the burning but it only served the same purpose as throwing gasoline on a fire. Babe opened his mouth eagerly, allowing him to slip past and god, he couldn’t stop there, not when Babe was running his hand through his hair, grabbing with trembling fingers.

“Gene…oh, Jesus Christ.”

Babe was breathing heavily, eyes glazed and unfocused as he simultaneously melted into Gene’s touch and tried in vain to pull away, like he’d been in a trance and had only just realised how crazy they were being. “We can’t do this here!” Eugene continued to maul at his neck, pale, the veins jumping in a quickening rhythm.  Babe’s eyes screwed shut, looking almost agonised, mouth forming an ‘O’ like a saint in ecstasy, dirtying up Gene’s memories of Catholic Sunday School.  

“It’s fine.” Gene managed to murmur, desperate fingers pushing Babe’s collar down even further to get at the newly exposed skin, eliciting a heavy gasp. Babe shivered and coughed out a spluttering laugh.

“Whatever you say, ah, Doc.” Doc, his old nickname from college. It shouldn’t have given him chills, but it did. It reminded him of Babe, hanging round the door of his dorm with some kind of minor injury, cracking jokes and sharing easy smiles. If only he had seen then, the glint in his eyes as Gene reluctantly gave in to his whims and handed him the kiddish cartoon Band-Aids he kept around just for Babe. If only Babe had known Gene was secretly pleased when Babe sought him out and forced him to socialise, that he was the one who helped the most when Roe thought he might not be able to go on as the stress began to mount. It was all right though; they were making up for lost time now, frantic in the bathroom of a bar, the sordid situation somehow blessed with some kind of purity.

It didn’t last long, not with the amount of time it was anticipated. They each hurriedly reached for each others zippers, shoving shaky hands beyond boxer waistbands, touches that both burnt and soothed. It was almost like Gene was a teenager again, the way he felt mad with it, practically out of his mind with the slightest touch. Babe’s whispered curses through gritted teeth didn’t help matters, and when Gene breathed out his name, Edward, his real one, he thought that Babe’s heart might actually beat right out of his chest. It didn’t take much, not at all, for them both to be sagging against each other, panting and seeing stars in one of the grottiest bathrooms this side of the Mississippi. Gene huffed out an incredulous prayer, thanking God in stuttering French.

Babe was smiling, looking so sweet and pleased that Gene had to kiss him one more time, right on the corner of his mouth. They wiped their hands hastily on tissue, zipping themselves back up awkwardly. Babe grabbed him by the back of the head and pressed a kiss smack bang in the middle of his forehead in return, his teeth knocking against his skin as his mouth stretched wide.

“Jesus.” He breathed. “That was somethin’ else.” Gene began smoothing down his shirt, reaching up to attempt to fix Babe’s ruffled hair, which only elicited more feverish kissing. Gene slipped out of Babe’s grasp and slapped him lightly on the arm.

“Come on, we should go.” Babe pouted jokingly and followed him out of the bathroom, intentionally-but-not-intentionally bumping his arm against his ass as they shuffled out. They both attempted to look as innocent as they could with red swollen lips and bright eyes.

Unfortunately for both of them, the moment they decided to subtlety slip out of the bathroom together coincided with the exact moment that Snafu decided to return to the bar from his sobering walk. Unlike the rest of the bar’s patrons, he certainly did not miss their messed up hair or rumpled clothes. His eyes lit up with unadulterated glee.

“Well, well, well!” Roe ducked his head, blushing. Babe was far less bashful; his cheesy grin was similar to that of a child at Christmas. “Who’s the slutty one now?” Snafu raised a critical eyebrow at the pair.

“Shut up, Merriel.” Roe mumbled as Babe burst into a full on laugh, slinging an arm around the other man and pulling him to his side. Roe began to reluctantly laugh too, crushed up against Babe in a way that was reminiscent of their earlier closeness in the bathroom, but relaxed, tender, with more of a promise of something. Babe wasn’t pulling away any time soon. They all settled down at the bar again, Snafu throwing Roe teasing but impressed looks.

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Eugene.”

Babe, whose arm was warm around Eugene’s waist, looked up eagerly from his beer.

“You don’t wanna know what he’s gonna have in him.”

Snafu choked as Babe howled with laughter and Roe allowed himself a grin at Snafu’s scandalised expression, feeling happiness grow in his chest.

 

* * *

 

In the morning Roe woke up cold. It turned out Babe was a habitual blanket stealer. Roe didn’t really mind, as he looked very endearing all cocooned in Roe’s duvet, so he just shuffled closer and let the warmth of his body heat him up. When Babe woke a couple minutes later, he assumed Gene was still asleep and, crinkling his brow at his own rudeness, gingerly wrapping the duvet over Gene, tucking it around him with gentle care and concentration, biting on his lip. Gene, heart fit to burst, cracked one eye open. 

“What’re you doing, Heffron?”

“Makin’ you into a burrito.” Gene sniffed a laugh.  “You want coffee?”

 “Yeah. Not yet, though.” Gene extended a leg out of his duvet wrapping and hooked it around Babe, inelegantly dragging him back in.

 

* * *

 

In the morning Snafu woke up wearing all his clothes with a banging hangover and 3 texts. One was from Gene, a very insistent message that Snafu was not to disturb him at any point before 12 in the afternoon, as he would be ‘very busy’. Snafu smirked knowingly, rolling over in bed. Eugene thought he was so slick. Another was a text from an unknown number. It was a picture taken of Roe’s fridge, where a photo of himself with Snafu from when they were kids down on the bayou was stuck up with magnets. The caption read ‘cute!!!!’. Snafu snorted and entered the unknown number as ‘Gene’s Heffron (OFF LIMITS)’ into his contacts. The third text, the one that made him almost roll out of his bed with shock, simply read ‘Love you too, Snaf. See you soon.’

 

* * *

 

**EPILOGUE**

Snafu surveyed the scene. There was Eugene Roe, usually so demure and solemn, with a smile in his eyes, talking in what Snafu was sure was his nicest, lowest Louisiana voice to the newly arrived Sledge. One pale arm was up on the counter, highlighting an unexpected amount of bicep muscle, and he was practically exuding charm. From where Roe had pulled this hidden reserve of charm, Snafu had no idea. Sledge was star struck, gazing into Eugene’s dark eyes as he recounted what was likely an impressive tale about his medical heroics like a freshman being hit on by a senior he idolized. _What on god’s green earth…_

“Heffron.” Hissed Snafu, using his sharp elbows to violently nudge Babe, who was obliviously biting into a hamburger next to him at the bar.

“’Uh?” Said Babe, lettuce hanging out the side of his mouth. Snafu, practically spitting, googly eyes wide with annoyance, tipped his head towards the two Eugene’s. Sledge was blushing now as Roe took him by the hand, illustrating some bullshit story by flipping over Sledge’s wrist to motion at the blue-ish veins, not taking those fucking sparkly eyes off of him.  He had to be doing this to get on Snafu’s goat as part of some twisted revenge ploy, just had to. _The bastard_. Babe looked over, semi-interested, and raised his eyebrows.

“Make him stop.” Growled Snafu, breathing down Babe’s collar. Babe raised his finger at Snafu like a teacher scolding an impatient student and finished chewing his burger, making him wait until he finally gulped it down.

“No.”

“Why not?” Snafu was practically whining now. “He’s your boyfriend. Doesn’t this piss you off?” Babe grinned widely, a smear of ketchup on his chin, and looked over at the scene again, running his eyes over Roe with appreciation.

“Nah. It’s actually pretty hot.” Snafu was ready to tear out his hair, Sledge looked ready to give it up right there and then, all pink in the face. “Plus,” Babe added, wiping his face off with a napkin nonchalantly, “I like how angry it’s making you.”

Snafu cursed the time he ever thought this guy was halfway cute. He was the devil in disguise and liked to wake Snafu up when he crashed on the couch of the house they shared by banging pots and pans in his face.

 “I am not…fuck off.” Babe’s wheezy laughter echoed around the bar as Snafu practically leapt off his stool and strode with forced casualness towards Sledge and Roe, putting on his best game face for the challenge ahead. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I love crossover stuff! 
> 
>  


End file.
